


The World Beyond the Window

by Lt_Zoe_Jebkanto



Series: The Unnamed Road [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Humour, Memoir, Sirius Black's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:32:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1498519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lt_Zoe_Jebkanto/pseuds/Lt_Zoe_Jebkanto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of the memories of 12 Grimauld Place involve wanting to be...anywhere else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mists of the Future

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a number of connected stories all written by Sirius Black for his godson, Harry, during Harry's 4th and 5th year at Hogwarts.

The Mists of the Future

 

Half an hour ago, at the railway station, I’d only been wet. 

Now I was soaked to the skin and shivering.

This morning the rain had only been a tapping on the windows of the train. By midday it was drumming on the roof. As we reached our destination it was a downpour.

Pulling the collar of my robes higher, I had stepped from my compartment and hurried onto the platform. Then stopped. Where should I go? Several other students were clustered around me as they gazed this way and that, as I was doing. 

Not the older ones though. Robes flapping in the wind, they dashed to a line of waiting carriages. I started after them. 

“First year students over here! Step lively now!” A voice boomed from the other end of the platform. There, with a lantern in his hand, stood the largest person I’d ever seen.

“That’s Hagrid!” A girl said behind me. “He’s the groundskeeper at Hogwarts.”

A merry grin appeared in the middle of Hagrid’s wild black beard as he beckoned. In the glow of his lamp I looked for more carriages. 

“My sister,” another girl replied. “Says he always rows us first years across the lake to school.”

“He can’t mean to do that in all this rain, though… Can he?” gasped her companion.

“Of course he can! And he will! It’s tradition.” 

Now, sitting near the front of Hagrid’s boat, I could almost hear that word repeating between the sloshing waves. Tradition, tradition…

I brushed dripping hair from my face and lifted my arm to watch water stream off my sleeve. Pointless wiping my eyes on it, they’d be no drier afterward. And with the fog rising off the lake there was nothing to see. Still, I couldn’t help searching through mists for some sign of the place that would be home for the next seven years.

Home. There was no welcome in the word. On the train I’d almost forgotten where I was going. Not the place’s name, but what going there meant. Then that girl’s word “tradition” brought back to me why I was here tonight. 

School, Wizarding school. Learning Potions, Broomstick Flying and Transfiguration. What transformations might be taking place inside me as I studied them? 

The future my family wanted for me was looming closer and larger with every stroke of Hagrid’s oars. Were the shivers rattling my bones coming from a slow wordless rage at its approach, a sense of growing dread or only a result of the cold? 

I didn’t know, wasn’t sure it mattered. I sat straighter and turned my face up into the rain. I laced my fingers together and clenched my jaw against the shaking. Any moment that future would become my present. The only thing to do was face it. 

What I did know was that the idea of being a student Wizard in Slytherin House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry hadn’t seemed so real to me since the day my Mother took me to tea in Diagon Alley.


	2. Visions of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is grim in Grimauld Place, but a day in Diagon Alley doesn't sound a whole lot better...

CHAPTER TWO  
Visions Of the Past

 

“Sirius! What are you doing?”

The words lashed through the air behind me. The jar of pickles I was reaching for slipped from my concentration. It smashed to the kitchen floor in an explosion of glass, dill and vinegar.

I turned. My Mother’s black eyes were cold with anger and disgust. I’d seen that look before. Hundreds of times. I gave it back to her. “What did it look like? I was levitating a jar of pickles.”

“I saw that. Why were you levitating it?”

“I was hungry.”

Her fingers ringed my arm, pulling me close to her. “Why do you think we have Elves in this house? If you want something to eat, tell one of them!”

“They don’t know how I want my sandwich to taste.”

Her gaze moved to the table where bread and roast beef waited on a plate with elaborate gilt edging as a silver knife stroked mustard on them. The knife clattered to the table. Her voice was colder than her fingers. “It’s up to you to give directions. You’re too old to forget your station as the eldest son of the House of Black. Act like it! As for you-” Her words were no longer aimed at me. “How often have I said neither Masters Sirius nor Regulus are to prepare their own food?”

The House Elf who had appeared, quiet as a whisper, to clear away the mess, looked up from her towel and bucket with round brown eyes. “Oh, Mistress! Nori’s so sorry! Really she is! Young Master Sirius said he was famished, he did! When Nori says to him ‘Young Sir, how would you like your sandwich prepared, he says …”

“Young Master Sirius is just that- young! And foolish! He’ll eat what you make and like it or learn to instruct you properly! Take that mess and yourself out of my sight!”  
With a wave of her hand she levitated the Elf and her bucket and sent them sailing through the doorway to the pantry.

I pulled out of my Mother’s grasp, brushing at my sleeve to take away the chill of her touch. “It was me that made Nori leave so I could practice levitating that stuff.”

“You can practice spells that won’t compromise your position with the servants.” Her voice dropped out of hearing of any pointy Elvin ears that might be listening. “If you dislike my treatment of her, consider that you are responsible for it, by making her do something so improper as letting you work in the kitchen.”

“If what I did was so bloody improper, why didn’t you punish me instead of her?” 

“It’s her duty to take your punishment for you. It wouldn’t do for her to see the future Head of this House humiliated.” Her hand was on my arm again, tugging. I heard the heavy clang and thump of metal as the doors to the hallway swung open before us. My Mother showed me the smile she presented at parties with my Father. It gave her face graceful curves but never thawed it to softness. “Enough about that. I have a treat for you today. Arachna Malfoy sent an owl, inviting me to tea in Diagon Alley. Her son Lucius needs supplies for Hogwarts. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to get yours, too.”

“Diagon Alley?” My brother Regulus’s head popped out from behind the suit of armor stationed by the foot of the stairs. The hall grew quiet as, with a snap of his fingers, he made the heavy knights-wear stop marching in place. “Cool! Can I come?”

“I don’t like you using that vulgar expression, Darling. No, you may not come. Next year when you’re eleven, you’ll prepare for school. Today, I want Sirius to spend time with Lucius so he’ll know someone in Slytherin House when he gets to Hogwarts.”

Regulus’s face flushed. Instead of shouting, he split a slow grin between us. “What if the Hat you told us about doesn’t Sort Siri into Slytherin?”

“Don’t be silly. The Blacks are always Sorted into Slytherin, like the Malfoys and all the best old Wizarding families.”

Regs looked at me. “I wish I was older, then I’d be the one going to school this year, not you.”

I wished I was as excited as he was. If the kids there were like Lucius Malfoy, it’d be boring. My subject list looked cool- Beginning Charms and Basic Flight and Broomstick Maintenance especially- but there’d be lessons in how to act as part of an old Pureblood family- what spells to use when, where and on who, what to say, how to say it and who one should- or shouldn’t- say it to. 

At least I’d get my Wizard’s wand! I might have it before we went to tea! I could carry it in my pocket. Even if I didn’t know any spells yet, I could touch it and pretend I was doing them. Especially levitating things! I remembered my smashed pickle jar. 

My stomach rumbled. “Mother, what about my sandwich?”

“Don’t worry about that, the Elves will clean it up. Run upstairs now and change clothes. You don’t want to meet the Malfoys looking like that, do you?”

I shrugged. There was nothing wrong with what I had on. 

“He never cares at all how he looks!” Regulus smoothed a flick of dust from his deep red robes.

“Who asked you, Regs? I’m sure I didn’t.”

“But I’m right! Someone might think you got dressed by yourself! Your collar’s up in the back! There’s mud on your shoes and leaves in your hair! Oh, say! You’ve been up that tree in the garden, haven’t you?-”

“Oh, shut up, Regs!” I turned for the stairs.

“Stop it, both of you! Sirius, get upstairs so Kreacher can assist you with your clothes. We’re traveling in ten minutes.”

“I’ll do it myself, thanks! Kreacher gives me the creeps, muttering and-”

“Ridiculous. I don’t want Arachna thinking we can’t train decent help.”

I glanced over my shoulder. “So who’s going to do it for me at school then?”

“I’d concentrate more on minding that sassy tongue of yours! You’ll be representing-”

“Yeah, yeah,” I started upstairs. “I know… The House of Black…”

Five minutes later, I stood gazing out my window. I’d rather spend the day climbing the tree reaching over the garden wall than sitting in a tea shop as my Mother and the Malfoys talked down their noses like nobody in all England was as important as them. 

Why did everything revolve round my position in our family? What I ate, how I ate it, what I wore? I wasn’t even sure I liked being part of the House of Black. Most of its Magic was angry and impatient. My Mother called it powerful. I thought it was sneaky. Like flying Nori out of the room without giving her fair warning.

The door opened behind me. Footsteps creaked across the wooden floor. “Siri, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to let it slip out about the tree. I know you’re doing something secret up there.”

“It’s okay, Regs, I know you didn’t.” I turned to stare at him as he dropped onto my bed. “Anyway, Mother was too busy thinking about the stupid Malfoys to notice what you said.”

His eyes were earnest beneath his neat blue-black hair. “They’re not stupid. They’re really important…”

“They’re snobs, ya mean. All Lucius talks about is how well he does everything and how wonderful his family is. Cousin Andromeda says the Malfoys are just people, they’re no better than anyone else is. But they don’t want anybody to figure that out.”

“She really told you that? She talked to you like a grown Wizard?”

“No, I heard it when I was climbing down the vine outside my window last night. It goes right past the study.”

“Siri, you could’ve been seen!”

“Hardly. The curtains were drawn already, I peeked on my way upstairs after dinner.” 

“You could get in trouble sneaking out at night.”

“Well, you’re not going to tell on me…. Are you Regs?”

He hesitated. 

“Regs…?”

“No.” He grinned. “But what are you doing up that tree anyway?”

Should I tell? Lately it was hard to know what he was thinking. But I saw eagerness in his eyes as clear as I felt it rise in my throat and try to form itself into words. 

I sat on the bed beside him. “I was climbing, not to the first crook anymore. Out on that big branch leading over the wall. There’s a Muggle street out there! Father told Mother he’s put another unplottable spell around our garden. He said if fifty Muggles all looked through our hedge not one of them would see a house here.”

“That has to be a hard spell! Does it work both ways so we don’t see them either? Or is that what you’re trying to find out? I bet you can’t wait to get to school and learn stuff like that. Maybe,” he glanced at me. “You could teach me at the holidays?”

I sighed. “It’s not the spell! I want to know about the Muggles!”

My disappointment was mirrored in his eyes. “Why? They can’t do anything.”

How could I make him understand? “I’ve only got a week before I’m off to school. Then all there’ll be are Witches and Wizards, like it’s been my whole life. Hundreds of us getting told how to act every minute of the day-”

Regulus smiled at me. “You’ll remember it all, Siri. You’ll learn to levitate things, too. And have Defense Against the Dark Arts! Mother told me it was her favorite class when she was at school. She says once you can protect yourself, it gives you courage to use all the power the Dark Arts have! You won’t be scared they’ll backfire on you instead of working on the people you’re using them against.”

“You don’t get it. If Father’s spell doesn’t work both ways, I can see out where the Muggles are. Maybe they can do things we don’t know about-”

“Who cares about a world where nobody can do the simplest little baby spell?”

“Look, I don’t know whether there’s anything special about Muggles or not. Maybe they’ll turn out to be boring. But I want to know for myself, not have someone else tell me. This is the one thing I can do all on my own before I’m sent off to school.”

He shrugged. “There’ll be nothing to see. Muggles can’t do Magic anyway.”

“How do we know? ‘Cause Mother says so?” Rising, I went to the window. “Cousin Andromeda says Muggles have their own kinds of Magic. She should know because-”

The bed creaked. Regulus’s feet hit the floor with a thud. He pulled me round to face him. “Shh! We’re not supposed to talk about her husband being Muggle-born!” The alarm in his face faded as he leaned closer. “Mother told Mrs. McNair last week if it wasn’t for Andromeda being Father’s niece, she’d banish her from our house.” 

“You don’t have to look so glad.” I jerked away. She was the one grown person who brought laughter into our house. How could saying that put such a sparkle in his eyes?

“If she gets you in trouble for saying Muggles have Magic, I’ll be glad if she’s gone! She shouldn’t tell lies like that!” 

“Maybe it’s no lie. She might know things Mother and Father don’t.”

“How can you be on her side when she does stuff to hurt our family? Mother says anyone who’d choose Mud-bloods over family should be banished! And when she brings her kid here, it reminds people how she’s polluted our Pureblood line and-”

Leaping at him, I pushed him onto the bed. “Take it back! What does it matter about Nymphadora’s blood? She’s a nice little kid!”

“I won’t take it back!” Regulus’s foot caught me high in the shin. “And I’ll tell you what else! Mother said if it was up to her she’d blast Cousin Andromeda’s name clear off the family tapestry! And Nymphadora’s too!”

“Shut up!” I used his shoulders to push myself up off the bed, giving them a fine sharp shake for good measure. “You’re a stupid git who repeats everything he hears because you’re too young to know what you’re talking about!” 

I hoped it was true, that he was too young to understand the cruelty in his words. 

“Sirius!” Our Mother’s voice whipped under the door all the way from the floor below. “You should’ve been ready five minutes ago! Get down here!” 

Regulus got off the bed. His chin rose in anger, but tears glittered in his eyelashes. I sighed as my quick, desperate fury turned to regret. Of course he was too young to know. How much had I understood last year when I was ten? Hard to know. That was a long time ago. “Sorry for yelling,” I muttered. “What you said surprised me, that’s all.”

“Sirius! Must I send Kreacher up after you?”

“Coming!” I shouted. “Look, if she gives me a galleon or two while we’re out, I’ll get something to bring back for later. A new game of exploding snap maybe, without half the cards gone. Or some Every Flavor Beans.”

“Master Sirius! Mistress gave you an order!” Kreacher’s crackly voice grew louder along the hall outside my door. “You naughty brat, you’re supposed to mind when the Mistress calls you!”

“I said- I’m coming!” I flung the door open and hurtled into the hall. Regulus’s footsteps trailed behind me. As I started downstairs, I glanced back to where he stood in the dimness of the landing. “See you later!” I called, hoping to see a nod, a smile or even half a wave. For a moment, he gazed at me, then turned and vanished down the hallway.


	3. Family Legacies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The darkness over the lake is nothing compared to the darkness looming beyond Hogwarts' gates- in Slytherin House.

CHAPTER THREE  
Family Legacies

 

The rain had passed, leaving only the wind and the clunk and swoosh of Hagrid’s oars through the water. “Almost there,” he called, his voice only slightly breathless. “Reckon you lot’re lookin’ forward to the feast.”

“Feast?” said a boy’s hopeful voice at the back of the boat. “When do we eat?” 

Hagrid laughed “Right after you get Sorted into your Houses. That’s how you’ll know what table you’re to go sit at, see?”

“Houses?” asked a girl behind me. “My letter didn’t say anything about…”

“Well it wouldn’t, would it?” said the boy beside me, a skinny kid whose dark hair hung in wet, greasy strings. “Are you Muggle-born or what? I can’t think of any other reason someone would ask such a stupid question.”

“None o’that now! We’re supposed to try an’ get along, see?” Hagrid’s voice became a gentle rumble though he spoke loud enough for all to hear. “You wanna know ‘bout the Houses. There’s four of ‘em, see? Old as Hogwarts, and named for the two Witches and two Wizards who started the place, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and-”

“Yeah, and Slytherin.” I sighed. My nails dug sore spots in the backs of my hands. 

“Yeah,” said the boy beside me. I realized I’d spoken out loud. “Lucius Malfoy told me you’re Sirius Black. You’ll be there with us. Kind of a relief, isn’t it?” 

“A relief?” I hadn’t thought of it that way. 

“Being in the one place that won’t treat us like little kids who can’t handle Dark Arts? And keeps out Mud-blood trash? It’s the only worthwhile House if you ask me.”

“I didn’t.” I snapped, turning to stare at the prow of the boat. 

“You’re an idiot!” I told myself. “If you let old Stringy-Boy here get to you!” 

My stomach knotted in warning. “No! You’re only an idiot if you don’t listen!”

Great. Hogwarts really was like my family said. This kid had just confirmed it. I’d study Dark Arts, learn to fly people from rooms, fling curses to bend them to my will, snatch their stuff, freeze them so they could not resist. I could even hex other Purebloods if they disagreed with me and my Magic was stronger. That was the big thing I must learn, to control my Magic and do what my parents did. But why was that so important, exactly? It wasn’t like doing those things made them happy. Not like Cousin Andromeda seemed happy. Was there something she’d learned that was- bigger? Something from a world beyond mine? 

In the last week, I’d almost convinced myself my parents were wrong about spending all my time learning to exercise the powers of the dark arts and fitting myself into Wizarding society. I’d have friends who’d use their Magic for cooler stuff than proving how great they were all the time. Like exploring. I was thinking of jokes and laughter, a lake full of sea-monsters and woods with mysterious creatures in it. On the train I’d been hatching plans for examining the grounds. 

Stringy’s words recalled my real future. Head of the House of Black. My life’s course was set before I could lift my play broomstick an inch off the ground. I’d grow up to have a position of power in the Wizarding world, make a Pureblood marriage and become one more Wizard whose story was woven in a few gold threads on a tapestry in our parlour. A hundred years from now, some other kid would look at it and feel trapped.

Against the mist, I could picture the tree in our walled garden and the branch that had beckoned me. I heard my Father say he’d set spells to shield us from the view of passing Muggles. I saw the look of puzzlement and disgust in Regs’s eyes when I said I wanted to explore out there and then his worry that I’d get in trouble for it.

Why did things that made my family feel strong make me feel closed in? Why did the   
idea of a world of different people and possibilities beckon me when it disgusted them? 

Like Nymphadora. Behind the parlour door I heard my Mother use Stringy’s word “Mud-blood” as she complained about Cousin Andromeda’s little girl, Nymphadora. Could she have talked that way if she knew her like I did? She was a brave, funny little kid. Whatever my family said about Mud-bloods not being real Wizards, none of them were able to change the shape of their faces or the colour of their hair the way she could. 

But they chose not to know her. They got angry if she got mentioned. Even Regs. How his eyes had sparkled when he said our Mother wanted to blast Cousin Andromeda’s name off the family tapestry for marrying someone who, though he was a Wizard himself, had been born to Muggle parents! Even more so for having herself a Mud-blood kid! 

Would Hogwarts change me that way?

No. I wouldn’t let it. School had nothing to do with the way Regs was changing. How could he say only Purebloods had Magic when he’d seen Nymphadora transform? For him she wasn’t worth arguing about. He liked how our Mother’s gaze almost thawed into warmth when she looked at him better than the glares she’d been sending my way more and more often the last year or so. Not that I wanted her to look at me that way- not enough to change like he was.

But could I go seven years getting glared at by teachers and prefects? Would I change to make them stop it? Would a time come when I was so lonely, so hungry for companionship that I’d let myself change to get it? 

If that happened, would I be more sad or angry? 

Would I stop caring about exploring or learning on my own what people were like beyond the world that I had known in Grimauld Place? 

Oh, I didn’t want to be here! Didn’t want to be here at all, cooped up with hundreds of Witches and Wizards, all of us finding out how to sit quiet in class and be proper. 

Still, where else was I to go? Back home? Yeah, right. If I’d thought of it at the station, maybe I could have dashed away into the shadows and struck out on my own someplace. Like Diagon Alley maybe. But then, I’d still had the idea that Hogwarts was going to be different… Fun, maybe. And now that I knew better, I was stuck here in the middle of a huge, foggy lake!   
Not exactly a place that was going to offer me any very hopeful possibilities…

Or was it?

Wasn’t there something about Hogwarts that my Mother hadn’t quite liked? Some reason she didn’t exactly want me to come? She’d told Mrs. Malfoy on the day we’d gone to tea that she’d have rather sent me to Dermstrang Institute. Why was that, when all of those bleeding great ancestors of ours had come to study Magic here in Slytherin House? If she and Lucius’s mother hadn’t taken such a long boring time talking, I’d have paid better attention. If I could remember, it might keep me from changing! If it was a choice between upholding the family traditions or staying someone who was friends with Nymphadora, I’d choose her, every time. 

“And finally,” Hagrid’s voice slipped between my thoughts. “There’s Slytherin. Your House has the people you eat with. You live with ‘em, go to class with ‘em and do yer homework together. Help each other learn, see? All in all, your House’s- Well… It’s kind of like your family while your at school.”

I looked back at him. He set the oars in their locks and fumbled with a coil of rope in the bottom of the boat. How could he say people in Slytherin would be like my family as if it was a good thing? Were Lucius or the grease ball beside me to be some kind of new brothers? For all the differences that had grown between us, right then I ached for Regs.

But there wasn’t time to think about him now. We were almost to Hogwarts. Any moment we would be casting up on shore where my future would be waiting. What was it my Mother hadn’t liked? Maybe it wouldn’t make any difference at all. Or… it could be very, very important! I had to close my eyes and think fast! I had to remember!


	4. Trapped in Tradition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing could be worse than lunch with Sirius's mother... until the Malfoys showed up!

CHAPTER FOUR  
Trapped in Traditions

 

The Leaky Cauldron was cool. Good thing. Except for the Blackberry Crackle Cake, tea wasn’t. 

The outing started with me going for my wand at Olivander’s. I wished that could’ve lasted longer. My Mother tapped on the door leading to the shop’s back room as I was stroking the beautiful rowan wood of the wand that seemed to have chosen me. “Are you two done in there? We don’t want to be late meeting the Malfoys.” 

“Not yet, Mrs. Black.” Mr. Olivander stepped between me and the door. “Let’s have you point that wand again and see what it does for you this time, all right?” 

For the second time I lifted it and gazed at the stream of birds that soared from its tip. They were golden and seemed, for the glorious instant they lasted, to be made out of light. “Cool! It did it again! Did you see?”

“I did indeed!” He smiled at me, though I thought his eyes looked sad. His hand closed on my shoulder. “This wand has chosen you. It has very good, strong Magic. It will be your friend for many years.’

I wanted to carry it with me. Feel its weight in my pocket, or stroke the warm wood from time to time. My Mother took it from me as soon as we walked back into the main shop and requested Mr. Olivander send it to our house. 

We barely reached the counter at Flourish and Blot’s when she levitated my book list from my hand before I could give it to the clerk. My fingers curled around it as I tried to resist her ‘relinquisha’ charm. Her spell overcame my grip. The parchment sailed into her hands. “Before I approve these purchases I’ll see what you’re studying this year!” 

“You could’ve looked at it before! The parchment was on my bedside table the whole last month!”

Turning away, she spread the list on a nearby counter. The clerk cleared his throat as the bell above the door announced two Witches on their way in. 

“My letter says we need all that stuff!” I reached for my parchment again before the   
clerk decided to leave her to browse through it for the whole afternoon.

“Rigor manuum.” She hardly looked up. Her wand flicked. My hands stiffened into statue-like claws. I looked at the clerk, my face prickling hot with anger. Did other mothers act this way, or only mine? He looked from her to the Witches at the door then stayed put. Her finger traced a green column. “Charms, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts. With Dumbledore in charge? Only fluff, stuff and nonsense. Nothing to be done now, though. Clerk! Send everything on this list to twelve Grimmauld Place, in my name, Nocturna Black. Come, Sirius, we are going to the tailor.”

She started for the door, pausing to flick her wand and release my hands. I balled them into fists in my pockets. She could’ve bloody well asked to see my list! She liked to talk about not humiliating me in front of servants, but she didn’t mind doing it in front of strangers. It was how she’d treated Nori when she sailed her out of the kitchen. When I grew up I wouldn’t treat kids or servants that way. Not ever!

Hearing her argue with the tailor about my robes was no picnic either. But it took her less time doing it than she spent complaining about it to Mrs. Malfoy. He was her first target. She kept choosing new ones, pausing only when Lucius or his Mother took a turn. 

Lime robed Medi-wizards passed our table, discussing port-key-sickness. My Mother talked about the nerve of a Mud-blood Witch joining the Directors’ Board at St. Mungo’s Hospital. Two Wizards sitting by a photo of last year’s Quidditch Cup Finalists clinked butter-beers, toasting a win next time. The players in the photo raised their broomsticks and grinned their thanks. Lucius complained to me about the school brooms assigned first year students. His mother ignored the brooms but started in on the school’s Headmaster. 

“Among other things, Nocturna, Dumbledore wants all students to take at least one term of Muggle Studies.” 

This was the best news since the waiter brought my cake. It wasn’t on my list. Must be a second year class. I looked at Lucius. What a lucky twit! Why hadn’t he told me? But his jaw was dangling open in surprise and he looked like he was about to cough up his cake. 

“What a waste of time!” my Mother snorted. “Sirius would have gone to Dermstrang Institute if I’d thought for one moment that idiot was still going to be Headmaster this year. Everything was arranged at the Ministry for Dumbledore to be Minister of Magic. He could have been managed quite nicely there. Ridiculous man, with no respectable sense of ambition! Imagine, turning down the chance for a position like that! By the time I realized he was staying on at Hogwarts, Dermstrang’s openings had been filled for months.”

“Even under Dumbledore,” said Mrs. Malfoy. “Sirius is better off in Slytherin with Lucius. Their Head of House is always someone with proper values.” 

Had this chair been comfortable once? After all these years it was hard as a rock!

“I suppose his notions are just part of the general decline these past years. But-” My Mother leaned across the table. “I am so pleased the balance is finally shifting. My husband was at the McNair’s two weeks ago and he actually met this magnificent Lord Voldemort we’ve been hearing so much about these past months. Brilliant mind, he said. His ideas will bring the power in the Wizarding world back into the right sort of hands. When he came home, he woke me up because he just had to tell me about him.”

Thrill. Now she’d put me to sleep because she had to tell Mrs. Malfoy about him! I looked at my plate. Why couldn’t the cake go on and on like she was about to? The five galleon coins in my pocket would rust with age before I got to spend them. 

“He’s supposed to be quite a formidable wizard,” said Mrs. Malfoy. “A true Master of the Dark Arts, though I’m not sure yet who his connections are.”

“He’s of quite ancient Pureblood lineage, of that much I’m certain. And full of revolutionary ideas- oh, Sirius, sit properly! You’re slouching!” Under the table I heard the tap, tap of my Mother’s shoe before she took up her subject again. “-for restoring the old order with the pure old lines back in charge. None of these silly modern notions. Muggle Studies indeed!”

My Mother went silent. I sat straighter. 

But she wasn’t looking at me. She was smiling and waving to a velvet robed Wizard coming through the door. Following her gaze, Mrs. Malfoy smiled, too. “Oh, you know Ivor Lastrange from the Ministry of Magic?”

“Of course! His son, who’s just out of Hogwarts plans to marry my niece Bellatrix when she finishes.”

“Mrs. Black! Mrs. Malfoy! How delightful!” He exclaimed as he approached our table.

That wasn’t the word I had in mind.

“These must be your sons!” his voice bounced off the walls. People in the corners looked our way. “Lucius, I hear you’re a credit to Slytherin! Nocturna, this isn’t your little Sirius? He’s not off to school already!” A hand came out and before I could duck the touch, patted me on the head. 

“He is. But I wish he wasn’t starting under Dumbledore, that Muggle-loving dolt-” 

I sighed. Did I have to hear it all again? I wanted to go explore Diagon Alley! I wanted to go quick- before I got patted on the head again or called Little Sirius! I wanted to go, to go, to go- 

“But, you know, Nocturna,” Mrs. Malfoy turned to my Mother. “With the changes the Dark Lord plans to make, both our boys will soon be learning to wield their powers in a manner befitting those of us who know the full richness of dark Magic and- What on Earth is that racket?”

The teapot was floating an inch above the table, its blue china spout tapping on the nearest cup. Clear impatient taps!

A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. I hadn’t planned it, but the pot was levitating! This was cool- amazing! It was-

“Sirius! Control yourself!”

The pot clunked onto the table. A brown splash of tea slid down one side. My Mother’s face went blotchy red. The air almost crackled with her rage.

Mr. Lastrange smiled. “You have a young Wizard to be proud of here, Nocturna! We’ll need talented lads like him and Lucius in these next few years to help bring back the old order…”

“But,” my Mother interrupted. “He knows better than to interrupt-”

“Boys will be boys!” said Mr. Lastrange. “I daresay they’re eager to stretch their legs.” He’d been booming again. Now his voice dropped. “And we can speak more freely without the children present.”

My chair scraped back. Those were the words that would keep my Mother from stopping my getaway. “Yeah, that’s right, Mr. Lastrange! Lucius was going to show me the… the…” I thought fast, even as I started for the door. “The banners for the House Quidditch teams at Hogwarts! Come on, Lucius, let’s go!”


	5. The Path of the Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enemies... and allies!

CHAPTER FIVE  
The Path of the Present

 

So! That was it! It was Dumbledore my Mother didn’t like! “Mr. Hagrid,” I asked, turning in my seat. “What’s the Headmaster like?-”

“Professor Dumbledore?” Hagrid’s rumble was muffled as he continued to work over the rope in the bottom of the boat. “Great man, Dumbledore-”

Whatever else he might have said was cut off as the boat crunched on solid ground.

Stringy-Boy and I were almost bounced out of our seat.

“’t’sall right!” Hagrid called. “Everyone stay put til I get her pulled ashore an’ tied good an’ sound.” The boat rocked as he climbed over the side and tossed a loop of rope over a boulder sticking out of the water. Amid jolts and scrapes he nosed it onto a rocky beach. “One at a time now, stand up slow, an’ come toward the front o’ the boat.” A large pair of hands stretched out to me “Ready then? You’ll be first. What’s your name?”

“Sirius.” I didn’t add my last name, only stood up and repeated. “I’m Sirius.”

“Ready then, Sirius? Let’s go.”

I reached toward the huge figure leaning over me, thinking he’d only steady me as I jumped onto the sand. Instead warm hands caught me under the arms and lifted me high in the air. I laughed. Not one lesson yet and already I was flying! A merry grin popped out from the middle of his beard. “Welcome to Hogwarts young Sirius!” he swung me round and set me on the sand. “Just start up the hill til you come to a gate. We’ll be goin’ in together from there. Who’ll be next?” 

“I’ll do it myself.” Stringy-Boy climbed over the side and scrabbled onto the beach, slapping his dripping robes like he thought that might dry them. He paused beside me and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “It won’t do to get too chummy with his sort.” 

“Yeah, and why not?” The instant I asked, I knew what he’d say. 

“Do you want it getting around you’re making friends with the groundskeeper?”

“So, what’s it to you?” 

“I don’t want my House to be dishonored, that’s what,” said Stringy.

“It’s my House, too, y’rude git, and I’ll be friends with whoever I like.” I started up the slope. Walking into the future under my own power wasn’t as bad as waiting to be taken to it. My family’s wishes were dragging on me less now than they had in the boat. Hagrid’s grin reminded me everyone here wasn’t like Lucius or Stringy. How had I forgotten that when today on the train-?

I felt the curse almost as I heard it. Red light washed up the hill from behind me, stretching my shadow long. The spell whisked like a rope around my ankles and jerked my feet out from under me. Water sprayed in all directions as the ground came up and splatted me in the face.

“You sniveling coward! What is it, you’re too scared to fight fair?” 

I knew that voice! Half an hour ago, I had been laughing on the train with its owner. Slip-sliding in the mud, I scrambled to my feet and slogged to where Stringy stood, his robes gripped by a boy with tousled dark hair. 

“Here, let me,” I slipped my hands under his. As he stepped back I caught hold on the squelchy cloth of Stringy-Boy’s robes. “If you want to talk to me, use your mouth, not your wand.” 

“Or what?” Stringy-Boy sneered.  
“That’s for you to wonder, isn’t it?” said my companion, close at my side. 

“As if you could do anything to me,” Stringy-Boy’s gaze flicked sideways before he shifted in my grasp and I felt the tip of his wand slide up the side of my arm.

“You want to try us?” I hoped he hadn’t heard me gulp as I wondered what else he knew how to do with that wand of his besides yank me off my feet. 

“All we’d have to do is stand back and watch you be expelled for using your wand before you’d had a single class.” It was the quiet voice of another boy who had shared our compartment on the train. He’d showed us beautiful pictures from a book on constellations and joined in several lively games of Gobstones and Snap. The darkness hid the pale face and shadowed eyes that went with that calm tone. 

“When my friend lets go,” said my first companion. “Put your wand in your pocket. Don’t pull any tricks and we don’t knock you in the mud like you did him. Got it?”

There were two, three, four seconds of silence. 

I gave Stringy’s robes a jerk. “My friend asked you a question.”

“Got it.” he muttered as I released him.

“Now, get going, you stupid git!” continued my first companion, stepping in close to Stringy-Boy once more and giving him a shove. “We’ll be right behind you, so don’t try any more tricks.”

“I’m going.” Stringy spat, before spinning on his heel, he slogged away into the darkness.

“I’ll go ahead and keep an eye on him.” I could just make out a smile on my other new friend’s thin face before he disappeared after Stringy-Boy. 

“Thanks, Remus.” We called after him. “We’ll meet you up at the gate.” 

I was smiling too. My load of family expectations had gone. Probably dropped them in the mud when I got up to stand with my friend. In its place were my dreams of the last week. Talk, laughter. A lake full of sea-monsters and woods full of mysteries. On the train I’d made plans for exploring the grounds with the kid sitting next to me. The one who stood beside me now. 

The kid I’d first seen outside a shop in Diagon Alley.


	6. Beyond the Borders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you know you're friends, who needs names?

CHAPTER SIX   
Beyond the Borders

 

I was almost surprised to hear Lucius’s footsteps behind me as the shop door swung shut. “Good plan with the teapot. I’d be too old to get away with it. I’m meeting some guys from school. You want to see those banners or did you say it to get out of there?”

“Both.”

“Perfect..” Lucius beckoned to a big slab of a boy plowing through a crowd of kids gathered round a shop window. “Well, Goyle, you made it I see.” 

Goyle blinked. “Yeah. Who’s the runt?”

“A first year. Where’s Crabbe? We got to get to Knockturn Alley. Little Sirius here can hang out and wait til we get back.” 

I didn’t want to spend the day being called Little Sirius or hearing how great Lucius was. But I didn’t want him planning it for me.. Before I could say so the crowd shifted and we were in front of the most amazing display I could have imagined.

The window was full of broomsticks. Little-kid play brooms stood in the front corner. Regs and I spent hours chasing round the garden on a pair like that when we were small, our feet barely an inch above the ground. The back wall held broad-tailed brooms for long distance travel. Mostly there were racing brooms! Shooting Stars, Comets and Clean Sweeps with long handles and tail twigs tapered for sweeping turns. They gleamed with polish and begged to be taken out and flown.

“I want that one” said Lucius. “When I make Slytherin’s Quidditch team this year.”

I followed his finger. “The Shooting Star or the Clean Sweep?”

“The Meteor, idiot. It’s from the oldest Pureblood broomcrafting family in Britain. Their reputation-”

“You can’t fly a reputation.” The speaker was a tousle haired kid. We traded grins. “Besides, they’ve got a drag in the twigs. It makes them wobble in the turns.” 

Lucius scowled. 

So did Goyle. “He’s got a nerve talking to you that way. Say, twit, don’t you know who you’re talking to here?”

“Yeah,” I grinned up at Goyle. “He’s talking to someone who doesn’t know twigs about a good Quidditch broom.”

“This-” Goyle elbowed past me, his face going the colour of my father’s best burgundy wine. “Is Lucius Malfoy, from one of the oldest Pureblood families in-”

“So?” The kid cut in. “My family’s Wizarding pure as far back as King Arthur. That doesn’t mean I can make a Quidditch Broom.”

“His family-” Goyle gestured to where Lucius had been. But Malfoy had stepped back so that he now was almost behind Goyle’s shoulder. 

“His family,” I moved so that the tousle headed kid and I were shoulder to shoulder again. “Isn’t here to look out for him right now, are they?” 

“You going to beat the bludgers off him during Quidditch games next year too?” my friend asked as Goyle snatched for his collar.

“There you are!” said a muddy sort of voice behind us. Another moving mountain rumbled by, pushing my friend and me out of his way. He crashed into Goyle, who’d started to lunge in our direction. Goyle stumbled back into the wall. The new kid stood amid the laughter, his long arms dangling. “I was looking for you! Where’s Malfoy?”

I tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at two hands waving from behind Goyle’s shoulders. “Excuse me, Lucius is busy hiding right now, but I think that’s him there.” 

“Mmummmmpf vvmmm!” A muffled voice shouted into the back of Goyle’s robes.

Goyle turned. “Sorry, whadyasay?”

When Malfoy’s face appeared it looked even more like my Father’s best burgundy than Goyle’s had done. It was hideous with his white-blonde hair. “I said ‘get them!’” 

The crowd parted. My friend and I dashed over the cobbles, Crabbe and Goyle thudding behind. We ran, laughing harder and louder the fainter their steps grew, til we were too winded to go on. Outside Florean Fortesque’s Ice Cream Parlour we sagged against its warm summer bricks and waited for our breath to catch up with us. 

“Did you see Goyle’s face when the other kid rammed into him?” His words were tangled between gasps and laughter.

“Yeah, I did!” My stomach was tired and aching with all that delicious laughter, but I couldn’t stop. Only managed to flap my arms a little. Then doubled forward, caught in a fresh gale of mirth. “And did you see how Malfoy’s arms were waving up and down and up and down like that?” 

“Yeah!” My companion struggled to put on an earnest and helpful look as he gazed up into empty air and pretended to tap on an invisible shoulder. “And you saying, ‘Excuse me, but Lucius is busy hi… hi… hiding right now!’”

“I gotta tell you,” I pushed the hair out of my eyes and grinned over at him when our laughter had slowed enough for words. “That you saved me from a fate even worse than spending the whole day with that git!”

His eyebrows rose, disappearing into his tousled black bangs. “Is there one?”

“Oh, yeah! There is! Him thinking he can tell me where to spend it!” The last of the delicious laughter had gone. My grin held for a moment longer, then fell. I pushed away from the bricks, shrugging away a sudden chill. “Like I’d ever want to go to Knockturn Alley with him and those creeps he hangs out with.”

“Is he supposed to be a friend of yours or what?”

I sighed. “My Mother wants me to know someone when I start school next week.”

“Well, that’s solved then.” He grinned. “Now you know me.”

“You’re going to Hogwarts?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m here for supplies. I wish we didn’t have to wait til next year to get our own brooms, don’t you? Did you see the Shooting Stars? I’d love to have one someday. I want to try out for my House team this year.”

“Do you think you’ll make it?” I asked. “What position do you want to play?” 

“Seeker.” He said without hesitation. “Like Shelbourne in the World Cup last year. I don’t know if I’ll make it. There hasn’t been a first year on a Hogwarts team in eighty or ninety years. I’ll try out anyway. I mean, you never know. Right?.”

“Right.” Cheering him on would be as much fun as trying out myself. I hadn’t thought of having fun at Hogwarts, but this kid was a first year from a Pureblood family, like me. We could share a dormitory in Slytherin! He hadn’t said how he expected to make the team, only what he hoped to do even if it was unusual for a first year. If a branch led over a wall outside his room, I knew he’d climb it. I touched the galleons in my pocket. “Want to have an ice cream before we check out the rest of Diagon Alley?” 

He got lemon squeeze, I had ginger ice. We ate as we looked in shop windows. We bought string-less yo-yos and were seeing who could keep theirs going longer when we spotted a sign. Bottom-Basher Boom-Boom-Boomerangs it read. Should we buy some to set on Lucius, Crabbe and Goyle? The idea of boomerangs chasing them while nudging their backsides and making huge exploding noises doubled us up laughing. With some regret, we dropped the plan. “I don’t really want to search for them in Knockturn Alley.” said my friend. “That place gives me the crawlies.”

“Yeah?” I glanced at him. I knew my father had business there from time to time.

“Yeah. There’s potions to erase your memory and enslavement bracelets to make you do things against your will for the person with the key. And teacups that stick to your tongue til you tell the person who gave you the tea what they want to know.”

“If they stick to your tongue,” I asked starting my yo-yo going again as we turned away from the Bottom-Bashers. “How can you answer their questions?”

He thought about it. “Good point. You want to go ask?”

I forced a laugh. “No! They might ask us to tea. What else have you heard about?”

“Oh, jewels with disaster curses hidden in them, things like that.”

I bent to pick up my yo-yo which had bounced off a wall and thudded to the ground. He sounded like that stuff gave him the creeps, but it was tales heard second hand. I’d seen the things he talked about- and more- in a glass case in our parlour. “So, you really don’t like all that dark arts stuff then?” 

He shrugged. “It’s a cheat. Planning ways to make things happen you don’t have the guts or power to manage in the open. It’s being a coward, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!” It was the word for how my Mother had acted, freezing my hands so she wouldn’t have to ask for my book list in case I said no. I was liking this kid more every minute. I got my yo-yo going again. “Right! A cowardly cheat!” 

“Anyhow,” said my friend. “There’s a sweet shop I want to see. It’s a Muggle shop, so the toffee won’t shriek or sizzle, but it tastes so good it makes you glad you don’t need to pay attention to anything but eating it. What are you looking at?”

“You!” I said. “You’ve been to a Muggle shop?”

“Well, yeah. It’s just the other side of the wall into Diagon Alley. Want to come?”

“Me?” This kid traveled between worlds like I walked from one room to another! 

“Yeah. Why not? C’mon. You got the ice creams. This is my treat.”


	7. The Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three down...

CHAPTER SEVEN  
The Crossroads

 

We were at the top of the hill when the mists thinned. A light shone through the trees. 

“Look! There’s the gate Hagrid talked about. See the wrought iron beyond that tree?” said the kid from the alley, turning to me for a moment, then lifting a pointing finger. 

James, he was called. We’d finally gotten round to exchanging names on the train. James Potter, he’d said. It fit. Quick, to the point. It was a proud thing, walking next to him and thinking: That’s James over there. That’s my friend James.

I’d almost winced when I told him what my own name was. Had he heard all about what my Mother called “the House of Black’s powerful reputation in the Wizarding community”? When James and had I talked last week about the creepy Dark Arts stuff they sold in Knockturn Alley, should I have admitted to him that I knew my Father did business there from time to time? That there was a glass case full of the very objects we’d discussed, proudly displayed in our parlour? Would he tell me to go back and join the group of Slytherins my Mother had insisted I sit with when she and Mrs. Malfoy saw us onto the train this morning? 

Except that he now knew what to call me, he hadn’t cared about my first name or my last. Only about making room for me and my lunch to sit by him while he introduced me to the pale, tired-eyed kid across from us, who had a huge book laid open in his lap. 

Remus Lupin hadn’t cared a jot about my last name either. But, leaning toward me, he’d expressed a lot of interest in my first. How’d I spell it? he’d asked. As I spelled out the letters, “S-i-r-i-u-s,” his fatigue-shadowed blue eyes lit up. Flicking through the book, he’d beckoned me closer and pointed to a picture of a brilliant blue-white star shining against the darkness of the page around it. 

“Sirius,” he’d said.

“That’s you,” said James, looking at the writing beneath the picture. “Says here you’re bright, but wimpy!”

Not only had that ended the worry about my name, but, later, only minutes ago now, both of those kids had come to my defense when Stringy used a dark arts spell on me!

My friend James, indeed! 

My friend Remus. 

Now, in the darkness, I smiled as I nodded at James. “Yeah. And I can almost smell that feast from here!” 

“Don’t talk about it, Sirius! Can’t you see I’m starving?” 

“Me too.” I replied. “There must be lots of food if they call it a feast, not just a meal-” I stopped.

“I said, don’t-” James began, then stopped too. 

Nothing I’d imagined had prepared me for the sight before us. 

It was a castle with more towers and turrets than I could count and high doors with rounded arches. Row over row of windows reached up into the darkness, with candles burning golden bright in each one.

“Here’s Hagrid!” James said at last in hushed tones. “Let’s go have a closer look!”

I nodded, but didn’t move. 

Had I thought nothing was here for me but the dark world my family picked for me or the fight to hold out against it? How far I’d come to stand here with a friend at my side and a Headmaster wanting to show me a bigger world than I ever imagined. And this golden place was where I’d live for the next seven years!

“We made it!” said Remus Lupin, appearing at my other side. He didn’t sound as calm as when he told Stringy about being expelled. I had the feeling he was only half talking to James and me. His eyes were wide with awe that was almost like disbelief. “We’re really here.” 

However far I’ve come, I found myself thinking, this kid’s come a lot further. 

There was something about him that reminded me of Nymphadora. Especially his eyes. Behind their sparkle, they looked like he was braced to meet the next unkindness. What gave them that look? If he was a Mud-blood like her, they wouldn’t let him into Slytherin with James and me. And I wanted him with us. Maybe I’d ask him sometime. Quietly, the way I asked her things, showing him my loyalty like he’d shown his, helping with Stringy-Boy. Letting him know I’d stand beside him, no matter what his secret was. 

I clapped him on the shoulder as we crowded through the gate.. “Yeah, we made it. Look, I think we can go in now! Are you as hungry as I am?” 

A door opened and a Witch with flowing robes and a tall hat beckoned us into a high ceillinged entrance Hall. “Welcome to Hogwarts, I am Professor McGonagall. Doubtless you are hungry after your journey. Before our feast you will be Sorted into the House where you will stay while you are here. Your belongings will be taken to your dormitory during the meal. Now if you’ll follow me into the Great Hall, we will begin.”

As many candles as had been shining in the windows, at least as many more were gleaming a bright welcome as they floated in the air over four wooden tables reaching almost the length of the hall. Familiar faces filled the one by the wall- Lucius with Crabbe and Goyle side by side off to his left. I nudged James. We gave them a jaunty wave as we started down the centre aisle. A girl on Lucius’s right brushed back her long, shining dark hair and returned the wave, then pointed to the chair beside her. It was my Cousin Bellatrix.

From the centre chair of the fifth table, which was turned to face the others at the far end of the room, a Wizard stood to greet us. Headmaster Dumbledore. The man my Mother called an idiot. He was tall and straight, with blue eyes behind twinkling half-moon glasses and a silver beard that flowed down over his star-embroidered robes. Standing there, he looked to me like nothing less than the Great Merlin himself, come back again, as all my favourite stories said he someday would.

“Thank you, Students, Professors. Now, if everybody’s ready-” His words seemed to be carried to us on a smile. He pointed to a stool in the centre aisle. A battered old Hat sat there, its tall point drooping to one side. “We shall indeed be doing things a bit differently tonight. It seemed to me to be a good idea that, instead of proceeding in the usual order of the alphabet, we would start instead at the end and work our way forward, or, that is to say, backward, from there. Professor McGonagall, if you please…”

The tall Witch moved to the stool. “First Years, as I call your name come forward and set our Sorting Hat on your head. When it calls your House, you may join that table for the feast. Here is Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and along the wall is Slytherin.” 

The Hat fluttered. Its point stood straight. A tear near the brim opened like a mouth. In a surprisingly rich voice- (though I’d never thought before how a Hat would sound)- it began to sing.

Where will you each dine tonight?  
Lend me your ears, I’ll guide you right.  
And they’ll hold me up on your head straight  
For the time I’ll need to speak your fate.

Which table holds your plate and cup?  
You’ll wonder as you pick me up.  
Listen now, before you face the test.  
And find words that will describe you best.

To search within, that’s your endeavor.  
Are you curious, confident, quick and clever?  
If in these words yourself you saw  
You’ll be right at home in Ravenclaw.

Steadfast and steady, could you be the one  
Through whose hard work the task gets done?   
If you think I’m describing your finest stuff  
You’ll fit just fine in Hufflepuff.

If your restless mind is always wishin’  
To bring to bloom some innermost ambition  
And achieving less feels like you’re witherin’   
You’ll find your fertile soil in Slytherin.

If loyalty is your driving force  
And with it, courage to stay the hardest course   
As you follow the dreams you’re seeking for  
They’ll bring you home to Gryffindor.

Now, since Hogwarts was a fine young school,  
I’ve Sorted students and I’m no fool.  
I’ll know just where you each belong  
And I’ll tell you- once I end my song. 

So come on forward, one by one.  
I’ll say my piece, then I’ll be done.  
It’s quite a job, to say the least  
To tell you where you’ll eat your feast.

So I’ll rest for next year as you gobble hams,  
Yorkshire puddings, biscuits, cabbage, yams,  
Tea and turnips, truffles and tortes.  
For by that time I’ll be quite out of… Sorts.

Cheers and applause rose around us. 

“A seeker! That’s me!” James thumped his chest. “Always dreamed of finding that golden snitch. Guess the Hat’s got no choice but to send me to Gryffindor.”

“Right!” said Remus. “But are you brave enough to tell it so?” 

“He’s right, James!” I elbowed him in the ribs and joined in the joke. “Me, I’d need to be in Gryffindor just to get up the courage to tell my parents I’m not in their House!”

“You’d have to be clever enough to think up a good reason to explain your being there.” said Remus. “Oops! But then you’d be in Ravenclaw!”

“Unless he had to really work hard on the letter!” piped up another student I’d met on the train. A rather plump little Wizard, Peter Pettigrew, was standing on James’s other side, almost jumping up and down with excitement. “But then he’d go in Hufflepuff.”

“James’ll be in Slytherin!” I grinned at him. “Seeking the snitch is one thing. He’s got to be ambitious enough to actually catch it!”

“But so many dark Wizards come from Slytherin.” The smile faded from Peter’s face.

“Not all of them are dark,” I looked into his worried eyes. “Not if they’re careful. Not if they decide they don’t want to be.”

Peter didn’t look convinced, but James and Remus nodded. Even in my damp robes I was warmed by their expressions. We’d be okay, the three of us, I knew it. Maybe even all four of us. I looked at Peter who’d moved to stand even closer beside James. 

There was a pause. It seemed to last minutes, though it was probably only seconds. “Wycliffe!” Professor McGonagall’s voice rang out. “Rachael.”

A blonde girl marched up the aisle, leaving a trail of footprints. She grasped the Hat and sank onto the stool like she’d walked a hundred miles. The air almost buzzed with silence as she swept the Hat onto her head. Its tear of a mouth opened. “Rrrravenclaww!” 

Everyone applauded as she ran to join her House table. Professor McGonagall waited only a moment for the noise to die down, before continuing her list. “Walters, Ewen. Wade, William. Vickering, Noel. Underhill, Argilius, Tolfree, Tucker, Sparks…”

“We could be here a while,” I whispered to James. 

“You will at least.” he grinned at me as Lauralinda Sparks joined Hufflepuff. 

“Snape, Severus.”

Stringy-Boy strode toward the Hat. “Severus!” said James. “It sounds like one of the statues I’ve heard about ‘round here. Y’know? Like Boris the Bewildered? Someday there’ll be one for Severus the Sniveler.”

“Maybe just ‘Snivelus’ for short.” I agreed.

“Yeah!” James’s grin grew even wider. “Snivelus.”

Snape picked up the Hat. Almost before it reached his greasy head, it wisely and loudly called out the name of his House. “Slytherin!”

My grin slipped. Would James, Remus and I be stuck sharing a dormitory with him? Seven years hearing his sneering voice first thing each morning and last thing at night?

“Smith,” called Professor McGonagall. “Sikes. Shadwell.”

Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin, replied the Hat as James squared his shoulders.

“Radermacher… Putnam… Pratt… Potter,” said Professor McGonagall. 

James gave me a thumbs-up. “I’ll save you a seat!” 

A glow of pride rose in my chest. That was my friend James striding up the aisle like he wasn’t scared of anything. James, robes dripping and hair just dry enough to stick up in the back. What did it matter if Snivelus ended up in our dormitory? We’d be too busy learning levitation and exploring the grounds to even notice him.

He picked up the Hat. I returned his thumbs-up though his back was turned.

The tip of the Hat quirked to one side as if it was thinking hard on how to make the grand announcement. I held my breath, but all the while I was silently cheering. This is so cool, so cool. It’s going to call our House now! My friend James is going to be in- 

“Gryffindor.” Cried the Hat.

Had I missed it? Was I so busy thinking how cool it would be when James got Sorted that I’d missed watching it happen? He’d been joking he’d have to go to Gryffindor to seek the snitch. For a moment I thought the Hat had actually said-

Gryffindor cheered as James walked past us to the table and sat down. 

This was wrong. We were supposed to be together. James and me. Remus too. And maybe even that little Wizard who’d been joking with us, Peter-

“Pettigrew…” said Professor McGonagall.

I was shaking again. It felt like I was bleeding from somewhere I couldn’t name. It wouldn’t be the same without James. Peter might be company- he seemed nice enough, didn’t want to be a Dark Wizard anyway. But James- my friend James…

“Gryffindor!”

From somewhere came a whiff of hot spiced pumpkin. I thought I might throw up. 

Since Diagon Alley, I looked forward to having a friend who hadn’t cared enough about what family I was from to even ask my name in all our hours together.

“Nolan… Morgan… Montante, McFarland…”

A friend who’d stick up for me like I’d stick up for him… 

There was a hand on my arm. “Sirius?” Remus said close to my ear. “You okay?”

I nodded, not wanting to risk losing the battle with the tears. Or the puke. I wondered if he could tell where I was bleeding. His hand dropped, but he moved to stand so our robes brushed at the shoulder. The nausea was passing. “Thanks.” I said, glad to have him beside me. There was something steady about him that said he was a person who could be relied on. Trusted.

“Lupin, Remus…”

Who wouldn’t betray me, who’d keep my secrets as I’d keep his…

His face was paler than ever. I touched his arm as he had mine. “It’s okay, Remus, you’re going to make it. You’ll do fine…”

Just as I had done, he nodded. “Thanks.” He said and walked to the stool.

It was over in an instant. He walked to the Gryffindor table like he was living every dream he ever had. He didn’t smile but his blue eyes shone like a million stars had been lit inside them. I wanted to be angry. Even if it didn’t take all my strength to stand up straight, I couldn’t be. Seeing the wary look leave his eyes meant someday it might happen for Nymphadora. She deserved to look happy like that. So did Remus. To help James and me, he’d taken on a Wizard who already knew at least one Dark Arts curse.

One like I was destined to be- a Slytherin.

So what if I didn’t like being a Black? I was one. Big deal if I thought Dark power was cruel and Pureblood stuff was dumb? My parents said my duty was to uphold our   
traditions. Regs saw no greater disgrace than hurting the family. Nobody asked what I thought. Why should they? They knew my destiny. Why else was my dream of freeing myself from that world cut off as soon as it seemed in reach? There was no resisting, never had been. My Mother said it the day we went to Diagon Alley. I would head the House of Black. The Blacks were sorted into Slytherin.

But was it so much to want- To fix a sandwich? To keep my beautiful wand in my pocket in Diagon Alley? To have friends who liked me just for me? 

I felt the wetness of real blood as my nails bit into my palms. Maybe Slytherins didn’t have their own dreams like other people, only dreams of Slytherins past.. Was that why they were angry and unhappy? But why why, why?- if I couldn’t make them real was I shown dream after dream? Why trust the future when there were so many betrayals? 

Remus to Gryffindor… Peter to Gryffindor… James… My friend James…

Truth was, even something as simple as climbing a tree to look over a wall too big a dream for a Slytherin like me.


	8. Captive of Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No... way... out.

CHAPTER EIGHT  
Captive of Destiny

 

The chandelier in the parlour was lit for the evening. All fifty black candles blazed as I followed my Mother from the flue. My Father looked up from the Daily Prophet as the fire’s green traveling light became its usual gold. “How was the trip to Diagon Alley?”

“Fine,” my Mother began. “Except that Sirius’s robes need alterations, and the tailor refuses to do the dress set until-”

“Great!” I waved a bag of Chocolate Frogs and Sourball Screamers. “There was a joke shop with boomerangs and one with the best sweets.” I didn’t add that a Muggle lady put them in a bag and traded with my friend for coins she put in a box that made gasping, coughing sounds before it swallowed them. I didn’t say how cheerful she was, or that if Cousin Andromeda’s Muggle-born husband, Ted Tonks was like that, I knew why she went against our family’s wishes to marry him. Instead, I rushed on. “And they had this display of broomsticks at Quality Quidditch…” 

My Father set his paper on the table by his chair. “You and Lucius had a good time?” 

“He went to Knockturn Alley with some older guys. This other kid and I went round to all the shops. He starts Hogwarts this year too. We got loads of stuff. See?” 

He hardly looked. “What’s his name? Would we know his family?”

“It’s…” I began. “I don’t know! I forgot to ask.”

“You spent hours with who knows what kind of…” My Mother cried.

My Father ignored her. “Sirius, do you think you were acting responsibly?” 

“Well- I didn’t spend all my galleons. I saved some for-” 

“You must,” said my Father. “Select your friends wisely. Going to Hogwarts doesn’t, by itself, make someone a fit companion. Muggle-borns and Mud-bloods also attend. You were to spend the day with Lucius Malfoy-”

“He ditched me!” I said, though it was pointless. Once a lecture started, anything I said was as likely to stop it as a little soot could halt a Wizard’s journey through the Floo network. “He said I could wait around for him all afternoon at Quality Quidditch- ”

My father frowned. “That isn’t the point, Sirius. Association with anyone below your station will harm your reputation. Once Lord Voldemort’s ideas are in place, such persons won’t be attending Hogwarts anymore, so you need not concern yourself about these matters. Until then, however...”

I lowered my bag. Why did my Father pick tonight to start all this reputation stuff again? I wanted to show my stuff to Regs before all the excitement wore off it. He beckoned me closer. “Sirius, you’re a bright young Wizard with a head full of questions. You may think the Muggle world is a bigger one than ours. You probably think it’s freer than the carefully protected one you’ve grown up in-”

Did he believe what he said? “It’s not protected! It’s like a jail!” 

“Sirius!” snapped my Mother. “That’s a terrible thing to say-”

“It’s true!” My voice was rising. “All I hear is- Don’t do this, don’t do that! It’s not proper to levitate pickles in front of the servants, I’ll humiliate myself! But it’s okay for me to be yelled at in front of them! It’s fine if I get spells thrown on me in front of strangers in shops-!”

“Silence!” she shrieked.

“Or what?” I took a step toward her. Looked into her purpling face. “You’ll take out your wand and-?”

“Stop, both of you!” My Father never shouted, but the silence after his words rang through the room like a slap. “Nocturna, he must feel free to speak his mind in the days to come, but…” He gave me a reproving look. “He knows better than to shout to make his views heard. Sirius, we’re speaking of choices you make in future. However limited your upbringing may seem to you, we tried to shield you from the ideas infecting our world these last years.”

“Like what ideas?” I challenged. 

My Father sighed. “That the order which existed for centuries is unfair to some Magical creatures. That werewolves, Goblins or House Elves need the same opportunities as Wizards, whether they want them or would even know what to do if they get them. And, most dangerous of all, the notion that Mud-bloods or Muggle-borns could ever be equal to Pureblood Wizards...”

He shook his head. His eyes held impatience. “You must always remember, Sirius, that these creatures lack the talent and knowledge to handle Magic properly, especially the Dark Arts which have kept our family strong for centuries. Why do you think Hogwarts spends its time these days, not teaching those arts, but, rather, how to defend oneself against them? It’s because anybody whose Magic is unsure is someone not to be trusted.”

“I can trust him!” I shouted, remembering how we stood shoulder to shoulder. “I bet we’re in Slytherin together! I don’t know his name but he told me his family’s Wizarding pure all the way back to King Arthur!” 

I stopped. 

I’d’ve gone round the shops with him whoever his family was. 

“Well, I’m glad you used some common sense before taking off with a strange child.”   
My Father didn’t sound glad. “You must not allow yourself to be lured into foolishness.”

Lured…? I didn’t get it. He’d said I’d used common sense. Nothing would make me ask him to explain. “Can I go show this stuff to Regs now?”

“Go ahead, he’s in his room. We’ll talk more later. Nocturna, tell me about your tea with Arachna. Have the Malfoys met Lord Voldemort yet?-”

It was my dismissal. I spun and dashed for the door on a wave of relief.

“Don’t run in the house!” My Mother’s spell lifted me and my hurrying feet off the floor for a moment before releasing me to walk from the room. “That child! I wish he had Regulus’s eagerness to learn instead of that rebellious streak. And he’s not the only one who doesn’t seem to know his place these days…” 

I paused in the hall to glare back into the parlour. Why hadn’t they cared about my day instead of who my friend’s family was? Or looked at the things I got? When I went back to the Leaky Cauldron to meet my Mother, a woman with black hair like my friend’s, came out. Through the window I saw her standing with him on the cobbles. She reached into his bag, popped a Fizzing Whiz-bee into her mouth and laughed. 

My Mother would never do that. Behind me she was still complaining. “I took Sirius to get his robes fitted. The tailor won’t do the dress set until he’s notified by Hogwarts of the House colours to trim them in after the Sorting. I said our family has worn the green and silver of Slytherin for generations. Arachna had the same problem last year at Lucius’s fitting. Silly, overbearing attitude for a mere merchant.” 

“I know,” I could hear my Father’s long sigh. “These modern ideas are more harmful than I imagined before today. That’s why we need someone like Voldemort to inspire our community, especially young Wizards-”

I turned for the stairs. The words in the parlour faded as I started up. “Regs!” Out of range of my Mother’s spell, my feet moved faster. The day’s excitement returned. I burst through his door. “See what I brought home? Dragon Delights have a new flavor- Cinnamon Sizzle! You can shoot smoke out your nose while you chew them! And…”

He sat at his desk, staring down into a book. Standing behind him I held the bag above his head and poured the contents down in a stream over him. Chocolate Frogs, Dragon  
Delights and Sourball Screamers bounced off his head, the shoulders of his red robes, onto the desktop and pages of his book.

“Cool, huh?” I grinned at the back of his head. “Try the Sourball Screamers! They have a sound that’ll make your face squeeze up just as much as the flavor…”

He pushed aside a couple of Chocolate Frogs and looked over his shoulder at me. He didn’t return my grin.

“Regs… You’re not still mad at me are you?”

He shook his head.

“Good. I had a real cool time!” Should I tell him about Muggle-London? The lady in the sweet shop? Or the man across the road with a garden full of shiny machines for sale? Ground-fliers was one name for them, my friend said. Or Motor-bikes. Maybe he’d get that bored look again, but he’d want to hear about Quality Quidditch. 

I tugged at his shoulder. He pulled away. “I’m sorry, Siri,” he said. 

“Me too. About yelling at you this morning and all...”

“This’s different.” 

“What?” But I knew. That lecture hadn’t come from nowhere. Responsibility, our protected world, Mud-bloods at Hogwarts. “You were talking to our Father, right?”

“He heard us yell about dumb old Nymphadora, and asked why we were fighting.”

He looked very young sitting with his skinny wrists sticking out of his robes and his usually neat hair nearly as tousled as my Diagon Alley friend’s. 

“So?” I wasn’t sure if I was more annoyed with his big mouth, or sorry for his misery. 

“I didn’t want to get you in trouble, Siri.” He looked at the bag in my hand, not me. “Really. I was mad when you left, but I didn’t mean to…”

“Look,” I said. “He didn’t tell me anything I haven’t heard before. Our Mother dishes it out a lot worse than him, y’ know that. It’s all right, okay?’

Every line of him said it wasn’t. As he stood up, a Sourball Screamer bounced off his lap and hit the floor with a shriek. He didn’t notice, only set his book on his bedside table. I wanted to grab him, shake him, or to hug him maybe, anything to lift that hunched look off his narrow, little-kid shoulders. 

His voice dropped out of the hearing of any Elves passing in the hall. “I told him about you sneaking out at night.” As bad as I felt for him, I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I’d forgotten what a big deal everything was when you were ten. I reached out to clap him on the arm. “Regs, give over, I mean it. It’s okay.”

He ducked my touch but at last looked full at me. “I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble! But you could have been! You would have!”

I could hear the last of the laughter in my tone, but a sick feeling crept into my stomach. “Regs, what are you talking about?” 

“He asked how you snuck out. I told him about the vine and that you wanted to see-” 

“That’s stupid! It wouldn’t help me! Might keep you out of trouble, though, right?” 

His words were sinking in. He said he wouldn’t tell and not an hour later he spilled his guts to our Father! The sick feeling was getting worse. I knew there were things Regs and I didn’t agree on, but he’d said… he’d said… 

“I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble-” he insisted. 

“Stow it!” I batted at the hand that grasped my robes. When I got to my room, I could slam the door before he saw how much his betrayal hurt.

His foot snaked around my ankle. The momentum crashed us to the carpet, Regulus on top of me. “Just listen then! It’d be worse if you got a chance to go out and-”

“Let go of me!” 

“You’ll see I’m right!!” He didn’t try to keep his voice low. “In a week you’ll be at school! You’ll see our world’s better than the one out there! It’s changing you, just by your wanting to see it! Siri, you talked weird this morning! If you don’t stop, you’ll hurt the family like Cousin Andromeda! You’d be in more trouble if you got out there, or anyone but me heard what you said-!”

“Well, thanks to you, someone else has heard, hasn’t he? And by now our Mother knows, too! What’s the matter with you? You scared I’ll decide I like that other world more? Or I’ll come back and say the House of Black isn’t the big deal you think it is?”

“It is a big deal! We’re an old Pureblood family!” His voice rose over mine. “Father says when Lord Voldemort comes to power, we’ll take our rightful place in his court…”

“Well, he’s got to get there first, doesn’t he? Do you think everyone’s just going to let some strange guy come in and take over?” 

“Father says-” Regulus loosened his grip, pulling back so he could look me in the eyes. “One day soon old Pureblood families will use their dark spells to bring him to power.”

“Maybe not all of them.” I thought of my friend laughing with his Mum, remembered how he liked Muggle-London and hated the dark arts shops of Knockturn Alley.

“But ours will!” Regulus let go and rolled to a sitting position. The anger in his voice gave way to excitement. “Father said it’s our destiny. That school turns you into a real Wizard, that learning Dark Arts teaches you what’s important. You’ll find what you’re best at, so you can help where you’re needed. Like I get to next year. It’ll be so cool, Siri, you and me at school together, learning all this stuff! He says-” 

I got to my feet. He didn’t stop me. “Is that all you can do? Repeat what everybody else says? Well, listen to this then! I don’t care about Lord Voldemort! And you can go tell our Father that right now if you want to, ‘cause at least it’ll get you out of my sight!” 

I turned and strode from his room. He caught the door before it shut, then padded after me down the hall. “You’d care if the world out there wasn’t trying to change you. It has a spell on you or you’d care about our family and what we can do together! So y’know what? I’m glad I told! You’ll be free of that spell! You’ll go to Slytherin and learn cool stuff and come home at the holidays and teach me! It’ll be like it used to be!”

Like it used to be. I heard longing in his voice on the last words. I stepped into my room, then turned. “How was that, Regs? How did it used to be?”

“We could have fun again.” He was looking up at me like he hoped I’d tell him a story or play a round of snap before bed. “We could tell each other stuff.” 

It was what I wanted too. But I wasn’t ten now. I wasn’t sure it was that easy. Maybe our minds had already grown us too far apart. “I don’t know, Regs…”

“I do, Siri.” His voice was as kind as when he said I’d be able to remember all the ways to act at school. “Father said he’d keep you safe til you go off to Slytherin House.” 

“Safe? What are you talking about?”

“He got his wand and took it down.”

“Took it…? Regs, what are you talking about?”

“Now you can’t go where that spell can get hold of you. So you don’t have to worry that it’ll make you hurt our family.”

I stared from him to the four walls of the candle-lit room that had sometimes been my haven in this dark, ancient house. It didn’t feel like one now. The only real haven was beyond my wood-framed window. This hateful place and the people in it were pressing in from all sides, trying to fit me to its mould. My Mother with her criticism and her quick, impatient cruelties. My Father, so sure that he knew the one way of being right. This House itself, with its centuries of proud, lonely tradition written in gold on a tapestry downstairs. And now Regs was trying to shut me in here too, because they made him believe it was for my own good! Even in my anger, I wished, as he did, for the earlier, easier times with my brother.

I turned, strode to my window. This place might be like a jail, but it was only a small part of a bigger world. My dream of freedom waited not so far beyond the glass. All I had to do was look at the tree with its branch leading over the garden wall to remember that. I rested my hands on the smooth sill and imagined the inviting feel of bark. “Do you think pulling down one little vine can keep me where I don’t want to be?” 

The candle light blotted out the view, but as Regs came to stand beside me, his face was reflected close to mine in the night-darkened window. Pressing my nose close enough to the cool to block the light, I stared out. For a moment everything was lost in blackness. Then, one by one, familiar objects sorted themselves from the dark. The stone bench by the path to the door, a statue of a rearing centaur, an empty space by the wall…

It didn’t make sense. I’d looked out this window a thousand times. I blinked. The empty space was still there. I brushed away a blur of tears as I searched for the thing I didn’t see. The thing I wouldn’t see. Not tonight. Not in the morning. Or ever again. 

Regulus’s hand was on my shoulder. His voice was kind. “I know taking down one little vine couldn’t stop you, Siri, ‘cause you’ll be a great strong Wizard someday. We both will! I don’t want you banished. Neither does Father! You’re safe now! And you’ll always belong to the House of Black!”


	9. The Sorting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Miss Black, The Sorting Hat never makes mistakes."

CHAPTER NINE  
The Sorting

 

“Courmier, Colby, Clearwater, Cambrey…” chanted a far away voice. 

The future my family wanted for me waited only a few names away. I’d dreamed of one full of friends, laughter and loyalty that sustained me my last week at home after Regs’s betrayal, but it was gone now, leaving only my destiny as a Slytherin and part of the House of Black. 

Fine. Nothing left but to face it. I’d told myself that on the boat. So, I’d live in Slytherin House, eat at its table, sleep in its dormitory. That didn’t mean I had to like it. Or forget there was a bigger world beyond its walls. Nobody would make me learn to be a snob like Lucius or Stringy-Boy. 

Could I last seven years and not let it change me? Last week I hadn’t got Regs out of my room before the tears came and that wasn’t even a minute! Now I faced fall term, spring term, summer term, cycle after cycle, in a House of Purebloods perfecting their Magic. I could hear James talking about Knockturn Alley. There’s potions to erase your memory and enslavement bracelets to make you do things against your will. I saw the glass case in our parlour and wished I’d stop shivering. Would someone in Slytherin use stuff like that to make me change? Like Cousin Bellatrix maybe? She’d think like Regulus. It would be better that way. I wouldn’t hurt the family. 

It wouldn’t be hard for her, either! I didn’t know enough Magic to levitate pickles or hold my book-list against a summoning charm! I couldn’t even stop myself from shaking because I was working so hard on not falling down or throwing up! But I’d do my best to stop her or anyone else who tried to shape my world into a small, dark and angry one! Especially if there was another choice. Something- someone- to show me another way.

Like Dumbledore! His name had come to me on the boat and I’d felt warmer inside. The thought of him waiting up ahead had helped me climb the long dark hill from the lake. I knew he was at the end of the aisle where I stood, watching Cambrey, Byrnes and Braithwaite make their way to Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. But did I want to see his gentle smile or gaze into his kind eyes? Regulus’s eyes had been kind too…

But he was different, wasn’t he? My Mother didn’t like my coming here because of him! He wanted to teach us about new worlds, not press us into old ones! Did that mean I could trust him to help me learn to be strong in Slytherin? I’d believed in my dream of climbing a tree to see over a wall and in my hope of being friends with James. I trusted Regs without thinking twice. How could I know it was okay to trust again? Or believe that, whether I got any of the other things I wanted, I could at least dream of keeping myself from turning into an angry Dark Wizard. If only there could be a sign...

A finger of draft tickled my neck. Had the doors to the Great Hall remained open after we crowded in? I pulled my collar higher and glanced over my shoulder. 

There was a swoosh of wings. A bird swept through the doorway and far above the candle flames, then down to land on Headmaster Dumbledore’s shoulder.

He was huge and golden. It seemed as though he was made out of light. Like the birds that had soared from my wand that afternoon in Diagon Alley. 

The memory came, as bright and clear as the great bird’s feathers. Mr. Olivander had been standing between me and the door behind which my Mother waited. His eyes had looked very serious but he had smiled at me and his hand was warm on my shoulder. “This wand,” he’d said. “Will be your friend for many long years.”

I wouldn’t be alone after all. My Magic would be my friend in Slytherin. One I could trust, one that would live inside me where nobody could take it. Because it was part of me. It would be whatever kind of friend I chose for it to be!

I looked from the beautiful bird into Headmaster Dumbledore’s bright blue eyes. With all the people here, I knew he was looking at me! He smiled and raised a hand to stroke the Phoenix’s golden feathers. 

I smiled back. On the boat I’d lifted my face to the rain and told myself there was nothing to do but face the future. On the hill I’d decided that was most easily done if I walked toward it under my own power…

“Black, Sirius…”

One step, two… Ten, fifteen. The Hat looked much larger than it had on the other end of the aisle. If I took a deep enough breath, my hands wouldn’t shake and I could lift it without letting it drop to the floor. The soft old material was feather light in my hands. The Hat’s tear of a mouth seemed to smile at me. 

“Go ahead,” I said under my breath. “Do what you have to. But I’m not going to be one more name on that ugly old Black tapestry. When I grow up the House of Black won’t even recognize itself, because if I’m going to be its head…”

“Put me on,” said the rich voice I’d heard singing.

“Not til I say this.” I raised it to eye level. “It won’t be full of Dark Arts cowards. I won’t be one, then or now! Even if I’m not in the same House with him, I’ll cheer for James if he makes Gryffindor’s team! I don’t care what the Slytherins think, he’s my friend! I’ll be his, even if I never get to tell him! I’ll say hi to Remus in the Halls! I’ll see if he looks happy like now, or scared like Nymphadora! If he’s scared I’ll find out why. Even if it’s Slytherins picking on him, I’ll stand by him til we take care of the trouble! Got it?” 

“Put me on,” the Hat said again.

It would be all right now. I’d had my say. There was nothing left but to take that last step into the future. With a deep breath, I swept the Hat up onto my head. 

When it calls my House, I told myself, I’ll remember what I said! I’ll stick by Remus Lupin. I won’t be a Dark Wizard. I’ll cheer on James Potter when he plays for his House team, even when he catches the Golden Snitch for-

“Gryffindor!”

“Right.” I told the Hat, looking up toward its brim. “When he scores for Gryffindor.”

There was a chuffing sound above me. How could a Hat clear its throat when it didn’t have one? “Gryffindor.” 

“What?” I asked.

Why would it say that when the Blacks were always, always Sorted into-? 

This was something I’d never thought to wish for! But I’d heard it twice. Twice! Gryffindor. Could it mean-? 

And then the Hat’s deep rich voice rang loud enough to fill the Great Hall. “Sirius Black to Gryffindor!”

At the fifth table, Headmaster Dumbledore was clapping. The Phoenix ruffled its feathers, rose into the air and circled the Hall on its beautiful bright wings before soaring out through the open door.

I set the Hat back on the stool and began to make my way down the aisle.

“No! This can’t be happening!”

I froze as a shriek echoed around the Hall. Had it been a dream after all? No… there had been a sign. I had to trust it! I began walking again. 

“Sirius! It’s wrong!” Cousin Bellatrix was on her feet. “You’re supposed to…”

I looked from her furious eyes and long streaming hair over my shoulder at Professor Dumbledore. He was leaning forward in his seat. Again his eyes were on me, though he wasn’t smiling this time. He waited.

My every dream… 

Friends, laughter, loyalty. A world of possibilities, a chance to not be an angry Dark Wizard! Nothing could cut off my way to the dream this time- 

Except me.

I drew a deep breath, looked from him toward the Gryffindor table and began to walk.

“Sirius!” Bellatrix shouted. “Sirius, it’s a mistake! It’s…”

“Miss Black!” Professor McGonagall’s voice rose above my Cousin’s. “The Sorting Hat does not make mistakes! Now you may either sit down and be quiet or forgo your feast and return to your dormitory!”

I didn’t notice what she did. I was remembering Headmaster Dumbledore’s smile and Professor McGonagall’s words. “The Sorting Hat does not make mistakes!” I hardly noticed my feet carry me. I could have been soaring on Phoenix wings, not to green and silver Slytherin, but the red and gold draped table of Gryffindor. 

“You made it!” Remus smiled from ear to ear, all the stars still blazing in his eyes.

I grinned. “You and me both! Good thing too! I said I’d have to be in Gryffindor to be brave enough to write and tell my family I’m not in their House!” 

From behind his shoulder, James’s head popped into view, his hair more tousled than ever as he smiled a welcome. “Hey, Sirius, I knew you’d make it to Gryffindor! You had to! I had to stop two Wizards and three Witches from taking the seat I saved for you! Come and sit down in it now so we can eat! Can’t you see I’m starving over here?”


End file.
